Author's Note:
Reno: Holy crap!
Reeve: What?
Reno: I think I just got killed off in Search For the Promised One!
Reeve: What makes you think that?
Reno: He left it up to the audience to decide!
Reeve: Reeeeeaaaaally now? Let me go send Tyramir an e-mail then.
Reno: He specifically stated that I'll still be in the disclaimers.
Reeve: Dammit!
Reno: Haha.
Reeve: Oh, one day, I'll get you. And when I do...
Reno: Sephiroth will hit the planet with a big chunk of rock?
Reeve: ... Pretty much, yeah.
Reno: So, you gonna say it?
Reeve: Sure. Tyramir doesn't own the rights to any Final Fantasy characters.
Chapter Three
Combat Grounds
Esthar, technological wonder city of the world, home of the world's presumed oldest and most sophisticated culture in the entire world, a place filled with scholars and philosophers, awe inspiring leaders and warriors, was a hive of chaos. What was once a home of peace and advancement was now a battleground for survival. In just a short time, Esthar had turned into a place of nightmares.
Kiros, a katal in each hand, remarked all of this as he made his morning sweep. In the near twenty years he had lived here, working with the people after the wake of Adel, the Galbadian had come to love this xenophobic land he has come to call home. And now the Lunar Cry threatened to destroy it.
Remembering fondly on his short time in Winhill, Kiros was amazed at how much these patrols to kill monsters around Esthar was like the patrols he and Laguna once did in that small village. He had thought the whole idea of being the protector to a village against vicious monsters was kind of cute and almost romantic then. Now, being one of the few able-bodied men capable of fighting off much more powerful monsters, Kiros reflected that the romance of the whole situation was lost on him.
Ward seemed to enjoy it, but Ward had a group of soldiers with him who knew what they were doing. Kiros was stuck with a bunch of rookies with bad aim. He always wondered what would take him out. The enemy, or friendly fire.
He walked calmly down one of Esthar's highways, once populated with pedestrians and hover cars, now only littered with fleeing people, broken wreckage, and monsters. It was like this everywhere. Adel's and Ultemicia's defeat had changed nothing.
A roar filled the air, and Kiros' head came up. He recognized that sound. His whole body ached, tingled with a feeling that he both loved and hated. Battle. He wanted to throw himself into combat, spinning with his blades, inflicting wounds. He didn't like the violence, but he loved the excitement, the uncertainty, the rush of blood.
And the owner of that roar was going to provide him with all of that. He had never before faced a Behemoth, but he recognized the sound of one, and had heard all of the stories. Supposedly they were unstoppable brutes, forces of such unbelievably strength, and wielders of great magic. Stories said that nothing living matched them for sheer brawn, and little measured up to their magic, but they were said to be stupid, and other than while at a charge, they were slow. Kiros smiled. Just how he liked his opponents.
He turned to face his squad of five men. "All right. This is how it's gonna go. There's a Behemoth out there. This is going to be our primary target. I'll come at it from the front, distracting it. While its attention is focused on me, I'll attempt to get under it for a few slices at its chest area, then move to harry its flanks. It will more than likely turn to face me. But since Behemoths are said to have slow turning rates, will more than likely be unable to reach me. I'll need some backup fire, though. So while it's turning, I want all of you to commence firing on it. Keep your distance, and watch your shots. Its a big target, but I don't want you hitting me by accident. I'll try to keep the Behemoth between myself and your fire, but be careful anyway. Is this understood?"
"Yes, sir!" came the answer.
"Good." He smiled, a reassuring grin, meant to bolster their confidence. With those silly helmets they wore, though, Kiros wasn't sure if they smiled back.
When Kiros turned back to face the road ahead of him, he saw it. Far away, but now charging fast, was a great purple shape in the distance. And approaching very quickly. Kiros readied his katals and focused on the incoming brute.
His eyes widened and he felt himself draw in a breath. It wasn't going to stop. It intended th charge right through them.
"Move!"
He jumped to the side, holding out both his katals. As the Behemoth charged by, the sound of tearing flesh filled the air as the blades bit into its side. The beast cried out in pain, but it didn't stop moving. Kiros swore and felt his heart leap in his chest as the Behemoth bowled three of his men over, stampeding them into the ground, crushing them. The other two managed to jump aside just in time.
Kiros' blood began to boil, and he felt the Blood Pain coming on, a private rage that he usually called forth to help him in battle. But this time, it came on its own. Instantly he was on the Behemoth's back, slashing and slicing, surgically tearing chunks out of the monster's back, all in a cold fury that had completely taken over his body.
The Behemoth screamed in pain and moved about, shaking, trying to dislodge its enemy. But Kiros' grace and agility, despite his age, were unparalleled. He danced across the sea of rippling muscle, all the while never pausing from the task of cutting the beast.
Gunfire sounded as the remaining two soldier opened fire and hailed the monster with bullets. With a final roar, it stood up on its two hind legs, dislodging Kiros. A wave of magical energy surrounded the beast. The sigh of it brought Kiros out of the Blood Rage, long enough to realize what was going on.
"Get away!" he yelled.
He dodged back, avoiding the rain of man-sized rocks that pelleted down from the sky as the Behemoth cast its final attack, a Meteor spell. Taking a final leap, followed by a roll, Kiros looked back, and swore. His remaining two men hadn't been lucky enough to escape in time.
Putting down his two katals, Kiros pulled out the vid phone from where it was tucked behind his belt and switched the screen on. He pressed the speed dial number of his oldest friend.
"President Laguna here.... hey, Kiros!" said the man on the screen. He looked jovial as always, but there was something behind his eyes. A tired look, as if despite all his reasons to be happy, there were almost as many reasons not to be. Kiros could understand the wary look. He felt the same way in his bones.
"Laguna, I'm gonna be candid with you here."
"Uh oh. One of those moments?"
"Yeah. How much room in the budget do we have?"
"Lots. We're a rich country. The problem is, we just don't have all that much man-power."
Kiros winced. Laguna had walked right into what he was going to ask. And he regretted having to do this. He knew how much Laguna feared this confrontation. "About the lack of man-power. We could always hire--"
"I'm already calling Headmaster Cid. I know what I have to do."
"Oh." He hadn't expected Laguna to so quickly own up to the responsibility of his next step. Of course, what followed would have to be that 'talk' he so wanted to avoid.
"Yeah. So, how goes your patrol?"
"An additional twenty three monsters killed, among them, one Behemoth."
"Well, that's a relief. We want to get rid of the last of those. Odine says there are probably only six or seven left."
"I lost my squad, sir."
Laguna winced. "I'm sorry to hear about that Kiros. I'll assign you a new squad when you get back."
"Yeah. Maybe this one will know how to shoot," he said past a weak smile. The words felt right, but at the same time wrong. Was that really the way to honor them?
"Head on back to base, Kiros."
"No thanks, sir. I can handle the end of my patrol by myself. I'll finish it and then come back. You just make sure SeeD doesn't rip us off."
"Sure, thing. Don't get yourself killed out there, old friend."
"Don't bore yourself to death behind that desk."
Laguna chuckled, and the vid screen turned off. Kiros tucked the phone underneath his belt, then picked up his katals. Off in the distance, he heard a roar, from another Behemoth. He looked back, to where his former comrades lay, bloodied and broken, dead.
Without hesitation he charged towards the sound of the roar.
Author's Note:
Sorry this took so long. I struggled through a large portion of this chapter, trying to figure out where I was going with this. Not to mention, I was a bit pre-occupied with events in my other fic, Search For the Promised One (Sorry, guys, but that story takes precedence!).
The next chapter will be up in a few days. Squall & Rinoa. Now, to work on my other fic...